


Hate

by dilapidatedream



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, High School, Locker Room, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 08:55:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1422220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dilapidatedream/pseuds/dilapidatedream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the end, all their passion and hate merely boils down to hate. Three components: boys, locker room, blow job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hate

“You’re late.”

The only reply that came was the faint mist of smoke that escaped from between chapped, rounded lips—lips that were perpetually in a taunting smirk or lax in indifference; lips that teased and mocked, roused and tormented.  Lips that could provide the greatest pleasure imaginable and, at the same time, leave one unfulfilled and wanting.

Yami loved those lips about as much as he hated them.

Clack.  The other’s boots sounded harsh against the gritty tile of the musty locker room, reverberating against the walls and drowning him in their sound.  Each click of the heel grated against his nerves in the same manner that the person wearing them drove him wild.  The other continued deeper into the room before he stopped in front of him, smirking slightly as he took a drag and exhaled the smoke straight into his face.

“I know.”  Bakura’s tone was arrogant as he spoke and leant forward, palms pressing against the lockers which Yami was leaning against, hands framing his face.

Yami rolled his eyes as he lifted a hand and slipped the cigarette out from between Bakura’s fingers, bringing it to his mouth and taking a drag, letting the toxins slip into his lungs to writhe around insidiously.  The smoke billowed out from between his lips, brushing against the other’s cheeks as he tilted his head upwards.  He flicked the ashes off before he tossed it onto the ground, extinguishing it beneath the ball of his foot.

“Whatever,” he muttered as he lifted a hand, fingers tangling into the mussed mass of the other boy’s hair as he pulled him downwards.

Their lips met with great ferocity, each trying to devour the other with sheer force.  Bakura moved closer and pressed him firmly against the lockers, all but knocking the wind out of him as he claimed his mouth.  The boy’s lips were cruel, taking from him whatever he wished, leaving Yami’s mouth bruised and his ego torn.  Their tongues clashed, and somehow they were like a pair of snakes, each striking and lunging against each other, but neither ever coming out victorious.

It was dark and ravenous, anything but gentle like a kiss between lovers should be.  Because they certainly didn’t care about each other.  It was all about the sex, after all.

Bakura’s hands were impatient against his body, grasping at clothing and hastily pulling it up.  Yami’s already rumpled uniform only seemed to get worse as the other’s hand slipped beneath the loose hem of his button down shirt, dragging it upwards as the rough skin upon Bakura’s palm scraped against his ribs.  His head arched back and hit against the locker, his soft groan mixing with the metallic thunk as the other’s fingers found one of the hardened nubs upon his chest, deftly teasing the sensitive flesh until he was finding it somewhat difficult to pull air into his lungs.  It certainly didn’t help the state of his breathing when Bakura’s thigh slipped in between his legs, pressing up against his aching groin and causing him to reflexively buck his hips against the other.

“Fuck,” he whispered against the white-haired boy’s lips as he dropped a hand down between their bodies, cupping the hardness pressing lightly against his abdomen.

Bakura’s hips thrust against his touch, in turn forcing his leg harder against the apex of his thighs, wringing moans from both of their throats.  Yami’s fingers adroitly undid the button, popping it before he dragged the zipper down, freeing the other’s length.  Moving forward, he latched his lips upon the other’s neck, sucking firmly and intent on leaving a rather conspicuous hickey.  And all the while, his fingers were moving lazily along the boy’s member, squeezing firmly and twisting his fist around the throbbing shaft.

Now it was Bakura’s turn to curse (though it was considerably louder than Yami’s utterance) as he moved against his touch, his nails scratching lightly down Yami’s stomach, sending little shivers curling down his spine.  He groaned as he bit down harshly against the other’s neck, reveling in his quiet gasp that Bakura emitted from the action and the way he seemed arch against him.  But he didn’t have much time to enjoy it, for the other had his hand upon his shoulder and was pushing him down roughly, a smoldering look burning in his eyes.

Obediently, he dropped to his knees, the tile pressing against him through the hardened fabric of his uniform as he came face to face with Bakura’s length.  One of his hands lifted and gripped willowy hips as he grabbed the member with the other, holding it still as he leant in.  His tongue slid out and flicked against the sensitive tip, tasting the slick fluid seeping out before he wrapped his lips around the hard length.  His tongue swirled around the head as he sucked lightly, and he was rewarded for his efforts with a breathless gasp.

Bakura’s hand clutched at the back of his head, harshly pushing his head forward and therefore forcing his member further into his mouth.  Yami make a sound of surprise as he suddenly found himself with a mouthful of rigid flesh, and he couldn’t help but gag slightly as it slid in, bumping lightly against the back of his throat.  He jerked his head back slightly, instead sucking firmly in an effort to appease the other boy.  And much to his relief, the grip upon his hair lessened, allowing him to move at his own pace.

He worked quickly, intent on getting Bakura off—because neither of them enjoyed teasing touches.  They both wanted sexual gratification and immediately.  They wanted the down and dirty, and nothing in between to stop them from attaining the pleasure they sought.  He used lips, tongue, and teeth even, grazing ever so lightly against the thin skin, in order to get the other to orgasm.  And by the way Bakura was panting above him, it was coming pretty soon.

Wrapping his lips tightly around the shaft, he sucked forcefully as he slid his head back, creating a shifting suction that, in the end, focused on the sensitive head.  This always drove Bakura mad, and just as he predicted, the other let out a guttural cry as his hips instinctively thrust forward.  Sticky fluid coated his tongue as he continued sucking, now grabbing onto Bakura’s hips with both hands in order to keep the other from accidentally choking him again.

A droplet of come clung to his full lips as he pulled away, and he turned his head and spat the pearlescent fluid onto the floor.  He never swallowed, and Bakura knew this—and he never did expect it, anyways.  He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and was just about to stand up as he heard the sound of a zipper closing.  But as he pressed his hand to the floor for leverage, the other began to move backwards, turning around and simply walking away.

Yami’s hands clenched into fists as he watched the other saunter away lazily, hands tucked absently into his pockets as if he didn’t just receive a quick blowjob in the boy’s locker room.

“God damn it, Bakura!  Fucking _stay_ for once!”  He was livid, though his outburst sounded more like a plea than anything else and simply acted as another blow to his ego.  He hated to subject himself to the other’s whims, but whenever he was with Bakura, he couldn’t seem to do anything but that.

As always, Bakura simply ignored him, as if he didn’t even hear anything.  He merely walked across the tile, his boots going click clack as he moved further and further away.  He didn’t even spare a single glance as he walked through the door, and all that Yami could do was stare at the shadow he left on the dirty floor before the door slammed shut.

As Yami slunk down against the lockers, eyes falling shut and hand slipping in between his spread thighs, he hated Bakura just a little bit more. 


End file.
